A Heating Summer
by kit-the-psycho
Summary: It's summer time, right? Everyone should know it's hot, and if you were offered to a nice cool beach house, you would most likely go right? Well that what Romano agreed to, or he thought he was getting into.


A/N: OK so it has been a very long time since I've wrote since school has started. I used to have write all the time but I deleted past stories. MY writing may be a little off so I would prefer no critics. Okay? Okay.

WARNING: This is a spamano fanfiction, so of course there is Boys love. There may be smut, BUT that is far away and start up with fluff.

.:A Heating Summer:.

It was summer time in Italy, and it was practically frying. Romano hated this weather more than he Germany. No scratch that he still hated Germany more. Romano was in a pissy mood, even though he was invited to a nice beach house somewhere, he didn't care where though. His brother Italy was of course overly excited, skipping back and forth through the hallways grabbing unimportant items for the trip. Usually Romano would deny these offers, but it was too hot to reject.

Anyways, Romano wasn't too thrilled, since mostly every annoying country he hated dearly would be there, how grand right? As if they weren't already on his nerves.

After a while he heard his stupid brother call for him, he sounded like a mother sometimes it was so annoying.

"ROMANO~ It's almost time to go~ I call driving, ok~?!" Italy chirped happily, eagerly waiting by the door. Now Romano was done packing, so he wondered out of the room his fist clenched tightly, "YOU STUPID IDIOTA!" he growled at his brother, as if Italy did something completely wrong.

"I'm-a gonna be the one doing the driving, ok? You have no right to demand things, ok?!"

Italy slowly backed away putting his hands up in defense from his brother, "E-eh? Oh um. Si! Go ahead!" Italy wasn't one for arguing when it came to his brother. His angry, older brother who hated him for every little thing.

A few hours when by as Romano loaded the car, drove the car, parked the car at the airport. Italy was still bouncing in his seat before they even got out of the car. Thank god Romano didn't let him drive or it would have been a pretty hellish ride. Romano slowly climbed out of his seat and glanced over to Italy "Get the bags out, I'll get the tickets." Romano muttered in a slightly more calmed toned, seeing how there was many pretty women around.

Romano made his way into the huge building, getting in line near the front. He heard a bunch of angry people behind him, mostly tourists. How did he know they were tourist? Because Italians always cut in line, but never really complain, only sometimes.

Once he got to the front of the line the women asked him what he needed, and he lightly scratched the back of his head. "There's a place… um. With a beach house somewhere. That's where I want to go. Um. Two tickets please." The woman stared at him, with a confused look. "Wear is the beach house sir?" She asked tilting her head.

Romano cleared his throat, "I don't know-a." he paused, "I was invited, by someone they already payed for our tickets." He looked down onto the floor trying to contain his anger.

"I see! So may I have your last name?" Her smile was now bright, and widely it almost blinded him.

Romano groaned, "Vargas."

That annoyed Romano deeply. He was half the damn country, how do you not know him. She began typing on her dusty computer. Her suit was nice and straight, her hair down to the length to her shoulders. Her hair was like a naturally curly deal and dark brown. That was the first thing he noticed about her. It reminded him of Spain, which pissed him off. Spain was most likely to be there to. Spain was going to get beat up by Romano. Why? Because he invaded his thoughts just then which was annoying, so annoying. He finally stopped thinking about him when he heard a loud clap.

It was the women, "Feliciano and Lovino Vargas correct?" Romano nodded "Yes, alright here is your tickets and your flight leaves in thirty minutes, have a nice flight.

Romano nodded slowly gripping the tickets in hands and then Spain popped back into his head, it was like he was demanding he be thought of. Spain would be there, at the beach house, whoever it belonged to. He would smile, and greet Romano. He would pull Romano's curl, which Romano would greet him with a punch in the gut. IT was just something that always happened when they saw each other, it was their thing.

Soon after a while Italy rushed in with a hand full of things, walking backwards "ciao ladies! I will be back soon~!" he called earning some giggles.

They loaded onto the plane quickly, and then they took off to their paradise.


End file.
